


Loop

by AlexOblivion



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ends in Relationship, F/M, Fitz Inhuman, Fitz Time Jumper, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inhumans (Marvel), It's a bit ridiculous how fluffy this is, Pre-Relationship, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexOblivion/pseuds/AlexOblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as "Five Times Fitz Went Back In Time And One Time He Didn't." </p><p>Fitz becomes an Inhuman and his power is to rewind time by 1 minute. They call it looping, and Jemma hates it. These are five times a very nervous and in love Fitz uses his power around Jemma Simmons, and one time he doesn't need to. </p><p>Sheeeeeeer fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loop

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my shameless fluffy one shot. This was loosely inspired by the telltale game "Life is Strange" and speculates on what would happen if a very nervous and in love Fitz had the ability to change the last minute of time. Enjoy!

1.

The first time had been an accident. It had happened after he’d come home from the mission tha had seen him breathe a cloud of terrigen dust and become a short-lived stone statue. Skye and Mack had hauled him home, eyes wide, and deposited him in Jemma’s lab where she was waiting in a full biohazard suit, tear tracks visible on her face even behind her mask. When it happened, Fitz was standing beside Simmons and she was running tests on him to gauge his new inhuman powers. She'd dropped a sample flask and it had shattered on the floor, causing a lab tech to hit the alarms and the lab to enter lockdown. Fitz had sighed and casually wished he'd caught the flask, and then there he was, flask in hand, Jemma grinning at him like he'd saved the day and no alarms blaring. He had asked her what happened and she had no idea, so he left it alone. 

Later that day, he had started experiments of his own. As in, away from Jemma. She'd been troublingly distrustful of Inhumans since Skye got her powers, and she'd been so happy when he hadn't exhibited anything right away… He had resolved to keep her out of it at least until he could control himself. So he'd locked himself into his room and set a timer on his phone to show a running count of the time that had elapsed since he pressed start. As soon as it reached one minute, he closed his eyes and wished he was back at zero. When he opened them, the clock was just ticking over to one second. 

Fitz had had to sit down. Logically, time travel was impossible. But practically… He'd just done it. His timer beeped at the two minute mark and Fitz closed his eyes again, willing himself back to when the timer started. He had wanted to test the limits of his power. Upon opening his eyes, the clock was at one minute. He'd gone one minute into the past, again. 

For several hours Fitz had tested his new power, but all he could ever achieve was one minute into the past. He couldn't go forward - he'd tried that extensively, and he couldn't go further back. At least, not yet. He reminded himself of the extent of Skye’s powers when she started, and how far they'd developed, but at this point he could only move one minute into the past. He could see how that might be useful, in a limited fashion, but it wasn't exactly on the level of massive earthquake inducing awesome. He also knew he had to tell someone. He'd decided on Skye - looking back he realized that might have been the wrong call, but by the time she had told everyone on the fricking base much more than a minute had passed, so he was out of luck - and then he submitted to the battery of tests Jemma wanted to run. 

She had taken it the hardest. 

“How will I know if you've gone back and changed something?” She had whispered when he caught her hands shaking in the lab and asked her what was wrong. 

“You won't,” Fitz had admitted. She had stared at him like a lost puppy and he had wished he could make her pain go away. But all his wishing had accomplished was sending him back a minute to watch it all over again. Her eyes had welled up and when he reached for her hands she had pulled away. Fitz felt like his heart was being torn in two. After that, she had quickly become distant, unable to trust him not to change their interactions. He understood, he did, it was a hard thing to get used to, but he missed her. That was how he found himself standing at her door, nerves raw and heart in his throat. 

He knocked timidly. She answered right away, like she had been waiting for him. 

“Fitz,” she said. She still smiled that little smile she seemed to reserve just for him, but her eyes were sad and he didn't know how to fix that. 

“Can I- can I come in?” Fitz asked. She nodded and he stepped past her into her little brick room. Her room was beside his, and laid out exactly the same way, but it felt a lot more… Like home, with all her knick knacks and photos and the general Jemma-ness of if all. He supposed she'd always been more like home to him. 

“What's up, Fitz?” She asked, closing the door behind him. 

“I just…” Wanted to tell you I miss you, because I want to be around you all the time, because I love you, he thought, but the words didn't come out. “I was wondering if you'd like to watch Doctor Who?” He winced. That wasn't what he'd wanted to say at all. 

Her smile was small and sad. “I'm sorry Fitz, not tonight. I’m quite tired.” 

He nodded like a bobble head, his ears still ringing with the knowledge that she didn't want to be around him at all. He let her usher him to the door in a daze and when he got there he turned to face her. She was clutching the door jamb with white knuckles. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered. One of her hands shook it's way off the door and reached ever so slightly for him. She caught herself too quickly for him to do anything about it though and she went back inside, shutting her door on him. Fitz groaned and looked at his ever present timer. One minute fifteen seconds. He closed his eyes. 

*

“I just…” He was going to do it differently this time. He had come back to the seconds between his halting start of a confession and his opting out for Doctor Who. He was going to do it differently. 

“You what?” She asked. He'd waited too long. She was standing with her arms crossed and she was looking more and more aggravated the longer it took him to get his mouth to work. Finally she huffed and lead him to the door. 

“If you can't even speak to me-” she started to close the door. 

“Jemma wait-”

“Then goodnight Fitz.” The door shut. He let out a huff of anger and closed his eyes. 

*

“I just…” See, this was the problem. He could go back and do it over but if he wanted to catch it in time he never got a chance to think it through. Never had time to figure out what he needed to change. He supposed the lesson should be to figure it out before he started the loop in the first place. 

“I miss you,” he blurted just as her arms were coming up to cross in front of her. She froze. Then her eyes welled up and he seriously considered just restarting now. He hadn't meant to make her cry. But then she was colliding with him and wrapping her arms around him and by the time he knew it the minute mark had long since passed. 

She still kicked him out of her room, but it was after an inappropriately long hug and the tearful confession that she missed him too. Immediately after that she told him goodnight and he found himself outside her closed door, wondering what the hell that was and why he was so bloody happy about it, given that he hadn't actually talked through anything with her. He checked his timer. Four minutes twenty. No use going back now, so he went to his room and tried to come up with a new plan of action to get Jemma Simmons back. 

2.

Thirteenth loop. 

Fitz committed the statistics to memory. He checked his timer, confirming that it had reset. Then he strode into the Playground’s kitchen. Jemma was in there making tea, and she smiled when she saw him. Things had been better between them since he’d gone to her room that night, but it was still tense. They just couldn’t get around the fact that Fitz had the option of do-overs, and she didn’t. Couple that with the fact that she couldn’t tell when he had gone back, and he could understand why it was so hard for her to accept his power. 

So Fitz had come up with a plan: he would tell her what loop he was on. That way she knew how many times he had repeated the instance, and it could inform her decisions in the current loop. He thought it was pretty clever. 

However, she disagreed. On loops one through five, she hadn’t really understood. Then he had figured out how to explain it to her properly and on loops six through nine she had argued with him. She had become exasperated on loop ten as soon as he had told her how many times he had repeated this instance, and for the last three loops she had refused to talk to him at all. This time, though, he had a different tactic to try. 

He walked up to Jemma and she offered him a cup of tea. He took it with a grin, then announced, “Loop thirteen.” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“This is my thirteenth loop of this moment. I’m trying to figure out a system that allows you to trust me when I use my powers,” he explained, “so far I’ve been unsuccessful.” 

Her eyes narrowed into a full-blown glare. “You’ve repeated this thirteen times?” She asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Have I ever done this?” She punched him in the shoulder. Fitz staggered back a bit - more from shock than any real force, she obviously hadn’t been trying to hurt him - and stared at her open mouthed. 

“Well?” She asked, hands on hips, “Have I?” 

“No,” he managed, “that was new.” 

“Good,” and she turned and walked away from him. Fitz groaned and closed his eyes. 

*

“Loop fourteen.” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“This is my fourteenth loop of this moment. I’m trying to figure out a system that allows you to trust me when I use my powers,” he explained, “so far I’ve been unsuccessful.” 

Her eyes narrowed into a full-blown glare. “You’ve repeated this fourteen times?” She asked. 

“Yes,” and he hastened to explain, “and you’ve argued, gotten angry, refused to talk to me, and punched me. That one was fun. But I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong and I don’t know how to fix it.” He waited, eyes wide at his own outburst. 

To his great surprise Jemma started to smile. “That’s because, you great lump, you don’t get it! Stop repeating and just… talk to me. Okay?” She still sounded angry but she was smiling at him, one of her wide truly amused smiles. It was incongruous and he was a bit freaked out by it. 

“Why are you smiling?” He asked. Jemma pressed his cup of tea into his hands. 

“Because only you would repeat a moment fourteen times to try and get it right,” she said. She had shifted closer to him and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. 

“For you, I’d repeat it a lot more,” Fitz muttered before he could stop himself. Jemma stared up at him and he stared down at her and she must have seen the slight panic in his eyes because she put a hand on his wrist and squeezed. 

“Don’t you dare repeat this,” she whispered. Fitz studied her face. There was something he couldn’t quite place in her eyes, something that made his throat tight. 

“I won’t.” 

3\. 

First loop. 

“It’s because you can’t control it, isn’t it?” Fitz accused. He regretted it the instant he said it. 

“Is that what you think?” Jemma demanded, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. 

“No, I didn’t mean that - I, oh fuck it.” He closed his eyes, hearing just the beginning of a shriek of outrage from her before the world faded away. 

*

“Loop two,” he announced. Her features twisted into a mask of outrage immediately and he dimly wondered if he should stop telling her when he had used his powers. She would hate not knowing, but it might curtail her anger a bit. 

“You looped in the middle of an argument?” She asked. “Why?” 

“I said something I regretted,” he willed her to understand. Her fury only increased. 

“What did you say?” She asked. 

“I’m not going to say it again,” he squawked, a bit taken aback. 

“Then get out!” He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Jemma Simmons this angry, and this was quickly escalating to be one of the worst. But he wasn’t about to leave now. 

“No -” 

She cut him off by coming at him and crowding him towards the door. “I’m serious! You get to repeat anything that’s uncomfortable for you and try it again and again until you come to the best possible outcome, or get what you want, and it’s not fair! No one else gets to do that! So unless you can be honest with me get out!” 

She pushed him back to the door and saw him start to close his eyes as she reached to grab the door and shut it on him. She changed course instead and grabbed for his arm, but she was too late. As his eyes shut he heard her say “Don’t-” and then he was gone. 

*

“Third loop.” And he was ready for her rage. She stepped menacingly towards him, poking her finger hard into his chest.

“Stop it! Stop going back!” She yelled. This was officially the angriest he had ever seen her. He had pushed her right to the edge, but he was right there with her. 

“Why should it? You don’t get it, do you?” He asked. She went to poke him again and he caught her fingers in his. He caught her other hand when she brought that one up and then he cut her off before she could speak. 

“If I stay, I’ll screw it up,” he said. She paused. “I’ll screw it up, and I’ll lose you. I’ll say something stupid, like I did this first loop, and you’ll kick me out like you did in the second loop and I - I don’t know how to fix that.” 

Her eyes softened and she stopped trying to pull her fingers out of his grasp. “That’s life, Fitz. If I have to live with the consequences, you should too.” 

It clicked in his head then, all her fears coming into focus. That dance they always did around each other where they were each too careful and too shy and too afraid to be honest was because she was just as afraid of screwing them up as he was. But now he had the option of do-overs until he got it right and she didn’t, and that had left her alone in the dark. She could potentially wreck whatever it was they had, and he couldn’t. He got it. 

“You don’t want me to loop at all, do you?” He asked, his voice a harsh whisper. She looked inexplicably guilty at that, though he wasn’t trying to be accusing. 

“Just… not with me. I want to know that whatever happens between us, it’s real. Whether it’s good or bad I don’t want it to be you messing around until you get the perfect outcome,” she whispered. 

He was still holding her hands and she was still quite close to him, close enough that he could smell her strawberry shampoo and he could feel the way she shifted anxiously when she said “between us.” His timer beeped. He was past the one minute mark. She looked at him, waiting nervously for him to close his eyes and go back. He stared back at her, and when his timer hit the two minute mark she started to smile. 

“Okay,” she breathed. “You promise?” 

Without thinking about it too much - it was slowly dawning on him that overthinking was his problem in the first place - he lifted their joined hands up and kissed her fingertips. 

“I promise.” 

4\. 

Sixth loop. 

He had looped three times before he even left his room. He was practicing what he would say to her and each time it had been so bloody awful that he’d closed his eyes and unwittingly backed up a minute. Then on the very short walk to her room he’d looped again because he’d forgotten her flowers, then again because he’d worn the wrong shoes. That last one was probably just an excuse, but it was still 6:59 and he had a minute to spare. She hadn’t said anything about looping before he got to her. 

He was at her door now though, and there was no going back. His timer beeped at the one minute mark and that meant it was 7:00, so he knocked on her door. 

As he had expected, he was at a complete loss for words. She was wearing a grey dress with a high collar that left her arms bare, and heels that put her eyes on a level with his. She had done her hair in curls and done something with her makeup so her eyes were luminous, and he couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say. 

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” she murmured. “Are those for me?” She gestured at the flowers hanging from his limp hand. 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah they are. Here,” he practically shoved them at her. Jemma took them with a little laugh and motioned him to come into her room. She took a second to smell the bundle of daisies and hydrangea, then filled a tall glass with water and put them in it. 

“Thank you,” she said, coming back to touch his arm lightly, “they’re beautiful.” 

“So are you,” he blurted. His face redenned right up to his ears and Jemma’s face did that squelchy thing he loved so much where she was embarrassed but pleased and didn’t want to show it. She busied herself closing the door and Fitz took the chance to look around her room. She’d had a little table set up against one wall with two chairs and open containers of Chinese food on it. She’d dimmed the lights down and when she set the flowers he got her on the table it looked like it could be from a restaurant anywhere in the city. He had wanted to take her to an actual restaurant, but since Fitz’s newfound powers hadn’t been assessed yet he wasn’t allowed to leave the base. Jemma had suggested this and now here he was. Their first date. He couldn’t remember ever being more nervous in his life. 

They sat down to eat and Jemma asked him about his latest project, and it was like nothing had changed. They talked and laughed all the way through dinner, and if they stared a little longer than usual and let their hands linger on each other it was just because of the wine and the candlelight. Of course. When they finished eating Jemma suggested they watch some Doctor Who, which he readily agreed to. She said she was going to go change into something more comfortable - he couldn’t help his mind race away at that - and left him standing in the middle of her room like a panicked statue. 

He took his shoes off, then his tie, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He debated sitting on the bed - was that too familiar? - but he’d sat on her bed a thousand times before so it should be fine. Then he did it and it felt weird so he stood up, but that would look odd if she came back and he was still standing there like a blithering idiot, so he sat down again. He was cursing his own ineptitude when the door to her little ensuite started to open. Fitz squeaked and closed his eyes. 

*

Seventh loop. 

The loop only took him back to when Jemma first went into the bathroom, so he started over. Technically he wasn’t looping with her, just near her. It was a bit of a grey area, he supposed, but it would have to do. This time he took his shoes and tie off, rolled up his sleeves, and sat back down at the dinner table. That wasn’t too familiar, was it? 

But why shouldn’t he be familiar? After all, they were best friends, weren’t they? Didn’t that mean he should sit on the bed? Had anyone ever had this much trouble deciding where to sit before? It was a bit ridiculous. Fitz was standing and making his way over to the bed when her bathroom door opened again. He closed his eyes. 

*

Eighth Loop. 

By this point he was a bit angry with himself, so he decided to throw caution to the wind. He took his shoes and tie off, rolled up his sleeves, and went directly to the bed. He piled Jemma’s copious pillows - seriously, what did she do with all of them? - up at the head of the bed, then sat back against them. They had watched Who countless times like this, and when she came out of the bathroom and smiled at him he knew he had chosen right. She was in her monkey pajamas, purple flannel bottoms printed with bright monkeys and bananas that he had bought her last Christmas, and a tank top. She had left her hair and makeup though, and he had to revise his earlier opinion. This was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. 

She climbed up onto the bed with him and nudged him until he lifted his arm. She curled up on his shoulder and he tucked his arm around her. He didn’t remember a single thing that happened in that episode of Doctor Who, but when they woke up in the morning still pressed together he had to revise his opinion again. 

5\. 

“Jemma!” Her name ripped from his throat and he stood up from his little bit of cover to run across the gap separating her from him. She had managed to fall behind a large crate, but she was clutching her chest and blood was seeping through her fingers. They were invading a Hydra base, trying to free the Inhumans the group had captured, and they had gotten pinned down by gunfire before they could link up with the other teams. Behind him, Coulson was yelling into his radio for air support, but all Fitz could see was Jemma huddled on the ground with red pouring from between her fingers. 

He reached her and knew immediately that there would be no time to save her. 

“Loop, Fitz,” she whispered. He didn’t have to be told twice. 

*

First loop. 

He ploughed into her a split second before the bullet did, but this time it sunk into her shoulder instead of her chest. They collapsed behind the crate. Fitz began pulling things out of his many pockets, looking for the coagulants all agents carried. 

“How did you know?” Jemma gasped. Fitz found the coagulating powder and leaned Jemma back so he could dump it into the hole in her shoulder. 

“I looped.” She didn’t say anything, but she smiled at him. He got the coagulant into her shoulder then put pressure on it, waiting for the powder to do its job. 

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured her. 

“Thanks to you,” she said. 

Moments later the air support arrived and destroyed the Hydra agents keeping them pinned down. Once it was clear Fitz helped Jemma to her feet and took her back to the quinjet. She clung to him the whole way, whether for support or out of fear he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful because he wouldn’t have let go of her anyways. 

“I suppose that’s an acceptable use of your power,” she allowed as they walked. Fitz grunted a laugh. 

“Thanks, boss. I’ll remember that next time you get shot,” he teased as they went up the ramp to the jet. He helped her sit down in the jet and cupped her face in his hands. 

“Please don’t get shot again. I love you too much to lose you,” he said. Her eyes widened and he realized what he’d said. They hadn’t talked about it since the night they spent in her room watching Doctor Who, but they had been practically inseparable ever since and when they were together it was a lot of touching and being too close to each other and long looks. But they hadn’t talked about it, and they certainly hadn’t said those words to each other. Fitz took a breath and started to close his eyes, determined to wash away the moment so that it could happen later, at the right time. 

Jemma startled his eyes back open by kissing him square on the lips. It was a quick kiss, probably meant to keep him from looping, and she sat back and stared at him.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, “Or you’ll miss me saying I love you too.” 

And One Time He Didn’t. 

She was laughing at something stupid he’d said, well and truly laughing. She covered her face with one hand and giggled through her fingers, her hair mussed and splayed across the pillow. Her makeup was long since gone, and when she looked at him through her fingers it was just her. Her laughter died out and she rolled onto her side so she could look at him properly. He met her by rolling onto his side and facing her, propping himself up on one elbow. She reached up with those long, dainty fingers and traced them over his lips. 

She didn’t say a word, but he knew. It was all there in her eyes, the look he’d been searching for since he’d met her and realized he never wanted to be without her. He kissed her finger when it traced back over the curve of his upper lip and she smiled at him. 

“Are you ever tempted?” She asked suddenly, her voice a quiet whisper in the shroud of morning that surrounded them. 

“To what?” He asked. 

“To loop. Even though I’ve asked you not to. To repeat moments like this,” she explained. 

He flopped onto his back, catching her hand as he went. He held her hand between both of his, his fingers memorizing the shape of her skin, the structure of her bones. 

“Yes,” he admitted. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it, about going back over and over and reliving her happiness. 

“Why don’t you?” She asked. he pressed her palm to his lips. 

“Because I’d rather be right here with you,” he said.


End file.
